


Sharp

by TheEarlyKat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: No Anders without Justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:34:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEarlyKat/pseuds/TheEarlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a softness to his words that tries to cover the sharp edges of himself. Wicked blades can cut deep but it’s the blunted knives that should be feared and there’s much of him to wary of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharp

**Author's Note:**

> Very short thing as to try to break this awful block I'm in.

There’s a softness to his words that makes him whisper no matter how loud he speaks. They roll of a tongue covered in honey, too thick and too sweet to be natural. He smiles often, but each lift of his lips is shallow and quick to be gone. It’s easy to show expression but difficult to hold it. Wrinkles form around his mouth, the skin pulling loose over cheekbones, high and jagged like the rest of him. Like thin shoulders and ridges of ribs in sharp relief. Pointed hip bones that barely keep the pants hanging on his torso. 

There’s a softness to his words that tries to cover the sharp edges of himself. Wicked blades can cut deep but it’s the blunted knives that should be feared and there’s much of him to wary of. White knuckles in a clenched fist pack more fire than punch and scrawny legs clad in heavy boots are quicker to kick than run. There’s a beast howling in the dips between his ribs, roaring in time with the beat of his heart, heating his blood, warming the breath hissed between yellowed teeth, turning it as res as the flames that coat his vision when he needs light in the darkest of the nights. When shadows he cannot run from hide the worst of him instead of the nightmares outside his control. 

He smiles and he laughs because he is too hard. He is too sharp. The blunt may be the most cruel yet they are often overlooked and if he whispers long enough, if he jokes often enough, maybe the barbed wire tied crushingly tight around his lungs and his gut will dull along with his edges.


End file.
